Do You Hear What I Hear?
by dcat8888
Summary: A possible storyline as to the first Christmas that Milt and Mark shared.


Do You Hear What I Hear?

by dcat

I didn't think I'd get this written and or posted in time, between the shopping, wrapping, card writing, baking, cleaning and trimming and throw in a major cold to boot, but alas here it is. This is my take on the first Christmas Mark and Milt spent together. Also, for the sake of this story, Mark and Frank Harper have not yet had the pleasure of meeting each other. Milt, Mark, Frank, Mike, May, Zora and Barbara Johnson all appear. These characters do not belong to me.

"**Do You Hear What I Hear?"** is a Christmas song and music written by Noel Regney and Gloria Shayne in 1962. Bing Crosby made a hit recording of the carol on November 22, 1963 and released a week and a half later on a then-new Christmas album. (It's also one of my favorite Christmas Carols.)

The idea for the ice storm in Oklahoma, came about as this past month has shown us all.

Peace on Earth, goodwill to everyone! Merry Christmas!

OOOOO

It was late and neither of them had spoken a word in the last hour or so. Sometime silence could indeed be golden, Mark thought, closing his eyes for a catnap.

Milt sat behind the wheel of the old pick-up truck. Here it was coming up on 2:30am and he was as wide-awake as he'd been twelve hours ago when this stake-out of sorts began. His blue eyes focused on the warehouse across the almost deserted street. An occasional bus ran by, along with the late night car here or there coming a few blocks away from the bars and nightclubs just down the road.

All the players that interested Hardcastle were inside, except for one, Harlan Stevens. And until 'ol Harlan showed up, the Judge had nothing, since it was Stevens who was currently at the top of the Judge's list.

Milt closed his eyes and leaned his head back, after glancing up and down the now empty street. Leave it to Harlan to show up late to his own 'party.'

McCormick sat in the passenger seat, his body curled up as much as humanly possible inside the small area, his head wedged tightly against his arm, leaning against the window. He mumbled something about being cold, so the Judge had started up the truck and turned up the heat to take the chill out of the cab.

The old truck fired up with its usual purr, but as Milt adjusted the heat fan, an unfamiliar and nasty sounding noise emanated from the engine.

Hardcastle quickly shut off the heating knob, waited a few seconds and tried it again.

Same result.

"Do you hear what I hear McCormick?" the Judge snarled from across the seat. "This is ridiculous, I thought you fixed this. I mean that's why I gave you that extra twenty bucks isn't it? To fix this noise!"

Mark groggily lifted his head and started to stretch out a little as Hardcastle continued to look and sound annoyed. "What are you doing?" he asked him, trying to wake up from the obvious cat-nap he'd been enjoying.

"You said you were cold, so I started her up and it sounds like the heating element is doing the same thing it was doing two weeks ago," he paused as he tried it again, then he turned to look at McCormick, "And you said you fixed it!"

"I did fix it, maybe the seal just broke again. It was a used part Judge. You keep forgetting that this old girl of yours is practically older than you are. Like a surgeon, I can only do so much with the original equipment."

Hardcastle shook his head, "Comparing yourself to a surgeon McCormick? Please. I want my twenty bucks back. You call yourself a mechanic. I guess I'm just going to have to take her over to Benny and have a real expert fix it."

McCormick showed the hint of a grin forming as he slapped the Judge's hand away from the heat control. "Don't worry Judge, I didn't take that as an insult, I realize that it's way past your bedtime tonight and you're probably saying things you don't mean." Mark tried the same thing that the Judge had tried and kept coming up with the same results. "I'll take another look at it tomorrow, I promise. In the meantime you ought to think about asking Santa to bring you a new truck for Christmas this year."

Milt scoffed at him, "Oh see, I knew this was coming. One little repair that you can't seem to fix and right away I'm supposed to go spend a small fortune on a new truck. And I hate to burst your bubble, but there is no Santa Claus."

McCormick chuckled. "Judge, she's not going to make it through too many more of your romps if you keep driving her so hard. She was never meant to be the Batmobile, and while we're at it, neither was the Coyote."

"I'm not getting a new truck McCormick and I don't believe in Santa Claus anymore."

"See Judge, that's your problem. You don't believe in Santa Claus." McCormick started, shutting off the heat for good, "See for awhile there I thought the two of you were maybe brothers or something. You know you both got these naughty and nice lists going, but I think he's a little more jolly than you, the real giveaway is the clothing though, his wardrobe's just as bad as yours." He followed up his statement with a 'ha.'

"Very funny McCormick."

"Alright, alright, I promise I will try to fix her up tomorrow. Has there been any action across the street?" McCormick now sat up straight.

"Nope, I think it's a wild goose chase. I don't think Harlan's gonna show up tonight."

"So why don't we go home then?" Mark asked.

The Judge checked his watch, "We'll wait till about 3am." He cleared his throat. "Listen kiddo, speaking of Santa and Christmas and all that stuff, I'm going to be heading down to Arkansas to visit with my relatives for the holidays. You can come along if you'd like, they've got plenty of room, lots of food, you know the whole family routine."

McCormick dropped his head, he really didn't know. The Christmas's he remembered were just the few he'd had with only himself and his Mother. And they didn't have a lot of room in their tiny apartment, or lots of food either. But his Mom always found a way to make the holiday special though and remembering that lightened his spirit. He came back to reality and responded, "Thanks for the offer Judge, but Barb Johnson invited me about a month ago, I must have forgotten to mention it to you. I apologize."

"There's no need to apologize, that's good you'll be with your friend. You know, I just thought," Hardcastle's voice drifted off.

McCormick knew exactly what he thought and he knew the Judge wouldn't say anything else, nothing else needed to be said. It was another generous offer from this unlikely St. Nick of sorts. He decided to change the subject without completely changing the subject. "Just don't eat too much turkey and ham and pumpkin pie while you're out there. Us crime fighters need to stay in shape, you never know when guys like Harlan Stevens are going to need to get caught."

"Don't worry about me and my food habits McCormick. 'Sides I'm really looking forward to the spread that May and Zora put out. It's a real treat. You'll really be missing quite a feast."

"Well, Barb promised to do up all the fixings and from what I can recall, she's a pretty good cook too." They both let a moment of quiet silence of mid-December come between them, letting the whole Christmas topic drop.

At exactly 2:53am, Harlan Stevens showed up. But he wasn't alone and worse than that, he was with someone who Hardcastle knew. It was Frank Harper from LAPD.

"What the hell?" Hardcastle said out loud.

"Is that Stevens?" McCormick squinted to identify him in the darkness.

"Yeah, that's Stevens alright."

"Who's that with him? Do you know?" Mark asked. "Another low life perhaps?" he added kiddingly.

"Yeah, I know him too and no, it's not another low life. We better get out of here kiddo," Milt said.

"Why? Who is that? What's going on Judge?"

Hardcastle started up the truck and began to pull away. "The guy with him is a cop McCormick. His name is Frank Harper."

"So, he's undercover? I thought you checked with the department and they didn't have anything active with Stevens?"

"That's what they told me," the Judge explained.

"Harper is dirty?" McCormick's next thought came blurting out.

Milt shrugged. "I doubt it, Frank's a good cop."

"But you don't know for sure?" Mark was trying to read his hesitation.

"He might be operating deeper than I checked. Either way, until I find out more, I don't want to risk blowing his cover or sticking our noses into something that could cause more harm than good." McCormick didn't respond and Hardcastle wasn't surprised by his friend's lack of retort. "If he's dirty, he won't get away with it. I won't protect him."

"I didn't say anything," McCormick said.

"Exactly!" Milt began, "It's when you chatter up and down like a blue streak that I know we're on the same wave-length. When you clam up, I know you disagree with me."

"Judge, I don't disagree. I'm just trying to understand you."

"What's to understand? I already told you if Harper is under deep cover, and you and I go blasting away in there, we could compromise his position. And if he's doing something he's not supposed to be doing, then I need more information so that everything is handled according to the law."

"It's a double standard," McCormick blurted out.

"It's not a double standard. Believe me, if Harper is dirty, he's going to get caught. But I owe it to him to give him the benefit of the doubt right now, and so do you. You've got to be able to see that? We need to keep quiet about this until I can get to the bottom of this."

McCormick thought about it for another minute and nodded his agreement.

OOOOO

A few mornings later, McCormick's head was buried under the hood of the old pick-up truck. He silently worked and tuned where he thought the problem was. He kept yawning as he tinkered and fussed away at the heating element.

Hardcastle came strolling out before too long. "Do you think you're ever gonna get that thing done McCormick. I wanted to leave this morning," the Judge said.

"Well, it's not going to be ready this morning. You'll have to leave this afternoon instead," McCormick's voice came from under the hood. "Believe me, I wish you would have left this morning. You know you could have rented a car."

"Maybe if you'd have gotten up early and gotten started on it, I could have kept my plans. You've been at this 'problem' for a few days already."

"Listen Hardcase, do you want it fixed right?" Mark pulled out his curly head from under the hood and glared at him.

"Of course I want it fixed right, I wanted it fixed right a week ago when I gave you the twenty bucks," he raised his voice. "So don't expect to get paid any more for this."

"Paid? No, I wouldn't expect to get paid to perform such a highly gleaned trade. That's only something that happens in America, but since I live in Hardcase-land, I'm subject to servitude. Like I said before, why don't you rent a car, or better yet get a flight to Arkansas. I'm not so sure it's such a great idea you driving half way across the country in her," Mark said as he tightened up a few last bolts. "Like yourself, she's not as young as she used to be." He smirked.

"Is she fixed or not McCormick?"

Mark came around and started her up and then went back to sticking his head under the hood. "I just want to do an oil change and check a couple of more things for you. I promise she'll be ready to go by 1pm okay?"

"Fine, fine, I'm gonna go make a call and see if there's anything new on Stevens."

OOOOO

The Judge tossed his suitcase on the floor of the passenger seat and then slid in behind the wheel. McCormick followed him out of the house. "I left May and Zora's phone number on the desk in the den. If you need anything, just call."

"Judge, I've stayed home alone before, I'll be fine, besides I'm going to Barbara's, so don't worry about anything. The house will still be standing the way it is right now when you get back."

"Oh, I talked to Mike at the police station and without mentioning any names, he said he would do some more digging into Harlan Stevens. If Mike should call back though don't say anything about seeing Frank Harper. I want to check it out myself. We'll pick up on it again after the holidays okay?"

"Sounds good to me Judge. Two weeks away from crime-busting is just about perfect." McCormick clasped his hands together, eager to put away the crime busting and get away from Hardcastle if only for a few days.

"Don't go thinking that it's going to keep happening, this is just a special occasion that's it," Hardcastle intoned.

McCormick nodded his understanding. "I got it Kemosabe. Tonto remains loyal to the cause. Don't worry. Now you better get started or you'll never make it to the state line before dark."

That got him a roll of the Judge's eyes. "Don't get smart McCormick. Stay out of trouble and well, Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you too Judge! And just so you know, Santa left a little present for you in the back of the pick-up. Don't open it till Christmas though."

The Judge half turned to look toward the flatbed and saw a little mound covered by a tarp. "Now why'd ya go and do that McCormick?" he blurted out.

"Me? No sir, not me, that would be from Santa Claus. He said you've been pretty much nice all year, and he decided to drop it off early while he was making his stop at the mall, you know being so close and all."

Hardcastle cleared his throat and began to mumble. "Well, he left yours in the den. And he knew you wouldn't wait till I even cleared out of the driveway, but he did mention you were on the nice list too, for the most part."

McCormick chuckled. "Just for that, I'm waiting to open it till Christmas. I have self-restraint. I'm gonna prove you and Santa are wrong about me."

"I'll be back on the 30th kiddo."

"Have a safe trip Judge."

OOOOO

Hardcastle's plan was to get to Flagstaff by nightfall, spend the first night in a hotel and then get up at the crack of dawn the next morning and drive straight through to Clarence. About 24 hours of driving all tolled up. He wasn't counting on the ice storm hitting Oklahoma at the same time he'd be trying to drive through. Just southwest of Tulsa, a semi truck driving in front of him lost complete control and jackknifed across I-40 and Milt, having given himself plenty of distance, still found himself sliding out of control and landing off the interstate and into the ditch on the side of the road. There was no way he was going to get the truck out of the icy ditch without some serious help. The truck didn't seem to be damaged any other way except for the icy predicament he was in. He kept the motor running for a few minutes and turned up the heat as the freezing rain pelted the roof of the cab. In a matter of moments, four more cars joined him in the ditch, trying to avoid crashing into the semi. He watched the truck driver climb out of semi, apparently uninjured. He hoped it wouldn't be too long before rescue personnel came by. Just then the heater began to make the same crazy noise it had days ago. He mumbled aloud to the empty cab. "Do you hear what I hear again McCormick?" He shook his head in frustration and shut the heating fan off and began the long wait. "Damn heater."

OOOOO

Meanwhile back in Malibu, Mark was busy getting ready to head out to Barbara's for Christmas Eve, by putting the finishing touches on a brand new shirt, tie and sport jacket combo he'd gotten himself for the occasion. It was one last time in front of the mirror for a final personal inspection, then he'd grab the suit coat and hit the road, but then the doorbell to the house rang.

He looked up at his reflection and smiled, approving of his appearance and then quickly dashed off to see who was at the door.

Mike Delaney and another uniformed officer stood on the stoop. He immediately opened the door and invited them both inside. "Hardcastle's not here Mike, he should just about be in Clarence, Arkansas right about now."

"That's okay Mark, we have a few questions to ask you," Delaney began.

"I was just about to head out, I'm spending Christmas with an old friend up the coast, I need to get going, can't this wait?"

"This is important Mark, we'd like you to come down to the station. We'll get you on your way just as soon as possible."

"I suppose this is about the Stevens case?" Mark questioned. Mike Delaney nodded. "Okay, I guess I don't have a choice here, but I really don't know too much. This is really Hardcastle's case and we just started nosing around him."

"I understand, but any help would be beneficial," Mike said and added, "And is there a phone number we can reach Milt at?"

"Yeah, let me grab it," Mark turned back toward the den, as he entered he spotted Hardcastle's present to him still unopened and he grinned, knowing he'd not attempted to break into it. He was waiting until late Christmas night when he got back from Barb's. "Take that Hardcastle," he said under his breath. "Bet you already opened up the one I got ya." Coming back into the foyer, he handed the scrap of paper with May and Zora's phone number on it to Mike. "Here you go, that's where he'll be at some point tonight. I don't have an exact time, since he's driving."

"We'll try him later then," Mike said, stuffing the paper into his pocket.

"Don't you guys ever take a break, even for Christmas?" Mark teased.

"I wish," Mike said. "You'll follow us over then right?"

"Yep, I'll be right behind you, I just want to gather up my gear. I'll just leave from the station."

OOOOO

"WHAT?" Mark McCormick shouted as he was led through the police station from Mike Delaney's office to conference room. "Lieutenant, this is nuts, you told me a couple of questions and that would be it. You never said anything about a Judge."

"McCormick, relax, will ya, Judge Abernathy just wants to ask you a few questions," Delaney said.

"And I've already told you two hundred times, I don't know anything else. All I know is that the Judge put Harlan Stevens at the top of his list."

"Relax McCormick, just answer whatever the Judge asks you," Delaney repeated.

"Look, am I under arrest for something?"

"No," replied Delaney.

"Do I need an attorney?"

Mike Delaney paused to chuckle. "McCormick you worry way too much. And to think that Hardcastle keeps trying to tell me you're an easy going fellow."

"I am, when I'm not around cops and judges," Mark said, as Delaney opened the door to a large conference room. McCormick peered inside and saw that there was more than Judge Abernathy in the room. He felt Delaney give him a gentle nudge on his left shoulder and he all but forced himself to step into the room.

Besides the Judge there was an assistant DA and the DA, plus the chief of police, and two Internal Affairs investigators from LAPD.

McCormick swallowed hard. "Just what the hell is going on here?" he blurted out as everyone was introduced. "I told the Lieutenant here everything I know, if you want any more details, you'll have to wait till Hardcastle comes back from Arkansas. He's the brains behind all this, me I'm just the brawn." The Assistant District Attorney let out a snort.

"Mr. McCormick, please have a seat," Judge Abernathy said as pleasantly as possible.

Mark took one more look around the room and decided he better do what was being suggested. "Can someone tell me what is going on? If I'm not under arrest, what is this all about?"

Judge Abernathy gave him a rather warm, yet altogether condescending smile. "You're not under arrest. It's been brought to our attention that you and Judge Hardcastle have been snooping around a man named Harlan Stevens."

"I already told Delaney everything I know, but I'm sure you already know that too."

"Mr. McCormick, Harlan Stevens," Abernathy said with all sincereness.

"Is that a question?" Mark sarcastically asked.

"Do I need to make it one?" Abernathy fired back.

"Okay, okay, yeah, we were."

"It's also been brought to our attention that you witnessed a certain member of the Los Angeles Police Department in the company of Harlan Stevens," Abernathy persisted.

McCormick glanced around once more at all the players, allowing his eyes to meet up directly with Mike's. Delaney was the only one Hardcastle had told. But the Judge also didn't give Mike a name. As their eyes met, Mike Delaney suddenly looked away. And Mark heard the Judge's voice in his head telling him not to say anything to anyone about the cop they had seen with Stevens. Mark's brain was working on overtime trying to figure out what exactly was going on. Hardcastle had been completely honest with him up to this point, so McCormick decided right then and there to remain loyal to the Judge.

"Mr. McCormick?" Abernathy was waiting for a response.

Mark's gaze went back to Abernathy. "I'm sorry Judge, I can't answer that."

"What? It's a very simple question Mr. McCormick. Did you or did you not see a police officer with Harlan Stevens on the night of December 17th?"

"With all due respect Your Honor, I can't answer that."

Abernathy let out a sigh. "It's Christmas Eve Mr. McCormick, we all have places to be, rather than here, you can make this very easy, and we can all go home to our families, just answer the question."

"No," Mark said.

"You can't answer it or you won't answer it?" the DA leaned forward and spoke up.

That was all McCormick needed to hear to realize that something bigger than he or the Judge even realized was going on. Mark merely relaxed a little in the rather stiff chair he was sitting in and allowed the tiniest of smirks drift across his lips. He wasn't saying anything else.

The DA became incensed and he glared over to the Judge.

Abernathy closed up the file he had in front of him. "Mr. McCormick, I'm placing you in contempt of court. You'll be spending your holiday in jail. Merry Christmas." Abernathy stood up from the table and headed for the door and said to Delaney. "Find Hardcastle. This whole thing is starting to stink."

As Abernathy exited, a jail deputy entered and began to escort Mark toward the jail ward. "Listen, I need to make a phone call, I do get a phone call right?"

OOOOO

Out on I-40, things were continuing to go downhill. The jackknifed truck blocked all the east bound lanes and cars were beginning to back up for miles, while no one knew when or if any sort of help would be coming. At least one solid inch of ice coated everything and the freezing ice kept pelting everything in sight. There was nothing like being trapped.

OOOOO

McCormick managed to call Barb, well, he got her answering machine and so he left a long, detailed explanation of the situation and asked her to call Hardcastle's aunts out in Arkansas and try to reach him to explain what was happening. He finished the message by apologizing over and over for missing her Christmas Eve dinner. He hung up the phone dejectedly and headed back to his cell, following the deputy. He would have called Hardcastle directly, but he'd given the note with the number on it to Delaney. He never thought to memorize it and when he asked if he could see Mike, the Deputy told him that he had left the station. _Of course he left,_ thought McCormick, _it's Christmas Eve, he's probably enjoying being with his family right now. _

The cell was cold and damp and a thin layer of dust covered just about everything. McCormick finally loosened up the new tie he wore and he reluctantly sat down on the bunk.

The jail handlers decided that the lock-up could use a little holiday spirit and suddenly over the loud speakers some Christmas music came bursting through. The first song that came on was Bing Crosby singing an all-too familiar carol: _Said the night wind to the little lamb… _ McCormick leaned back, chuckled and closed his eyes. There was nothing else he could do.

OOOOO

Up the coast in Monterey, Barbara Johnson returned from a last minute run to the supermarket. As she sat the bags down on her kitchen counter, she saw the message light on her answering machine blinking, so she played the message. Her mood changed from happy to dejected as she could hear the frustration and sadness in Mark's voice. He'd given her explicit instructions and information on finding Hardcastle in Arkansas, so as soon as his recorded message ended, she dialed up information to get the phone number for Zora and May, the Judge's aunt's in Clarence.

OOOOO

The pick-up's heater was intermittently working and Hardcastle was really glad that it was working if only for part of the time. It kept the ice on the outside from freezing to the doors and windows and it kept him warm enough inside until hopefully help would finally arrive. And up to the east, past the jackknifed semi, he swore he could see red flashing lights. Maybe he'd get out of this mess before too long after all.

OOOOO

McCormick's Christmas dinner consisted of lukewarm pressed turkey breast, the proverbial prison lumpy mashed potatoes that he was so fond of, some cold gravy and just to liven up the plate, a clump of semi-green broccoli stems and flowers. For his dessert, a tiny paper plate with a sugar cookie cut out in the shape of a star, sprinkled with yellow sugar, was handed to him as he stood by the jail cell door and waited. "Any chance I could get a glass of milk with this?" McCormick snidely asked, as a cup of coffee was thrust at him by another guard. "Guess that's a no huh?" The guard continued right on by.

Mark was just about to sit down and start picking at the food, when Mike Delaney showed up outside the cell.

"McCormick, you ready to talk yet?"

"Ah, Lieutenant, nice to see you again, and I'm always ready to talk," McCormick forked up some of the lumpy mashed potatoes and shoved them into his mouth. "Great dinner, especially these potatoes. Never knew I missed them so much."

"You could still make it out of town to wherever it was you were heading," Delaney said.

"Monterey," Mark said, giving him the location of Barbara Johnson.

Mike ignored the comment, "Who was the cop with Stevens?"

Next up was a forkful of broccoli. "You already heard my answer Lieutenant. Say, did you ever reach Hardcastle?"

"Nope, according to his aunts, there's an ice storm in Oklahoma, chances are pretty good that Milt is skating his way to Clarence right about now, that is unless he got smart and found a hotel to stay in and wait the storm out."

McCormick swallowed hard. _Damn_, this was not what he needed or wanted to hear. Hardcastle probably was in no position to find out what was going on.

"Oh and your friend up in Monterey left you a message, she said she left word for Hardcastle too, with his aunts and also not to worry, she'd save all the fixings and have the dinner for you just as soon as you get out."

McCormick stopped eating for a moment. "Thanks Lieutenant."

"It's the least I can do. I really don't want to see you in there either, but the DA is getting heat over this Stevens thing and he overheard Hardcastle the other day when he came to see me."

Mark looked up from his plate of food, "So you didn't?"

"Me? Hell no, is that what you thought? Milt and I go way back, I know he has good reason for withholding information. And as a cop I appreciate it, sometimes we get involved in some cases that require, well, a certain level of anonymity, and it doesn't mean we're dirty cops. Nope, Hardcastle's a one of the good ones, but you obviously know that too, otherwise you wouldn't be sitting in there eating that garbage on Christmas Eve. Milt might not ever tell you this, but he'd be damn proud of you keeping your mouth shut and doing this."

Mark let out a sigh. "Well, I hope he's alright and not in a ditch somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Hardcastle's not one for deviating from his plan. There's no way he's riding out the storm, he's on the road somewhere."

"Don't worry, he'll call in. And I'll see if I can get you that glass of milk, maybe even another cookie too." Mike Delaney gave him a smile.

"Thanks Lieutenant."

OOOOO

It was coming up on 7pm, when Milt a tow truck finally made its way westward down I-40. The mess that the semi had made had been cleaned up and even the icy storm had let up enough where independent contractors, such as the tow truck companies could get out onto the interstate and see about lending a hand.

Hardcastle was about forty miles east of Oklahoma City. After he'd been brought out of the ditch, he drove to the nearest exit and found a Sheriff's station. He pulled into the lot and went inside and asked and offered to pay for the use of a phone to call his relatives in Arkansas. The deputy in charge willingly agreed, knowing the horrible conditions out on the roads.

Milt was ever-thankful as he dialed up May and Zora's phone number. May answered and was eternally grateful to know that Milton was okay. She and Zora had presumed that he was stuck somewhere in the ice storm they'd been hearing about on the news all day long. Zora came into the kitchen and began to interrupt May as she was talking to Milt and he finally asked her to put Zora on the phone so he could understand what she was trying to say. Trying to listen to the two of them at the same time wasn't working too well.

Zora came on the line and began to tell him about Mark. They had gotten two messages, one from Mike Delaney and one from McCormick's friend Barbara Johnson that Mark was being held in the city lock-up on contempt charges. Milt listened carefully and knew he had to make some sort of decision. He told the aunts that he would most likely not be making it there after all, due to the weather and the fact that this latest news meant he needed to get back to California, but he assured them he'd call in to let them both know that he was doing fine and he'd get out to see them just as soon as he could.

After he hung up the phone, he wandered over to the deputy and asked him about the weather forecast.

"Sixty miles or so south of here, it's all rain, there's no problems at all and then back out west of Oklahoma City, they're reporting some light snow, but no traffic issues yet and once you get into Texas, I guess the sun is out. Heading east, that's another story," the deputy offered up.

"I guess I'll head west then," Milt said, checking over a map that the Sheriff had hanging on a nearby wall.

"I thought you said you were going east toward Clarence, Arkansas?"

Milt turned around to face him. "I was, but things change and I need to get back home as soon as possible." He swung around to the map again. "So if I swing south of here and then head back west I should be fine?"

"Yep," the deputy said, coming over to the map, "Take 44 down to Lawton and then over to 62 to 83 and back up to 40 and you should be fine." He pointed out the route to Hardcastle.

"Much obliged for everything. I left some money on the counter for the phone call."

"Glad I could help, Merry Christmas! Have a safe trip."

"Thanks, same to you!"

OOOOO

Milt figured he was looking at about a twenty hour drive back to Malibu. He stopped at a gas station in Lawton, Oklahoma and called the aunts to let them know he was fine and out of the ice storm, and that he was heading back to California. Then he tried to reach Mike Delaney or Frank Harper, but given the fact it was Christmas Eve, neither of them were at the station this late in the day.

OOOOO

Mark polished off the second cookie, this one was a Christmas tree and he tried to lean back to get a few hours of sleep. Some Christmas this was turning out to be. He'd been looking forward to spending the holiday outside of the jail cell for the first time in three years, so much for that dream now.

The city jail was unusually subdued on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. The fifteen or so men who were locked up must have sensed that there could even be a little bit of peace on earth for them, no matter what their current situation was and the guards even seemed to be a little nicer.

It was about three in the afternoon on Christmas Day that Mark McCormick got an unusual visitor.

"You Mark McCormick?" the slightly balding man asked. His hands thrust into his pockets. The shirt and sport coat he wore looked slightly disheveled.

Mark didn't bother to look up from the book he was given to read. "Yeah, and I already told you guys that I'm not saying anything."

"That's good to hear," the man replied, letting a smile cross his face.

The comment made Mark sit up and take notice of who was standing outside his door. "Hey, it's you."

The man took his right hand out of his pocket and put it up to his lips, "Shh, keep quiet. Milt told me a little bit about you when I saw him last month at a poker game. He said keeping quiet is kind of hard for you to do."

McCormick quickly got to his feet and went to the bars of the jail cell. "You know what's going on here don't you?"

Frank Harper nodded, "You and Milt must have seen me the other night."

Mark breathed a sigh of relief. "So you're gonna get me outta here right?"

"Not exactly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I need to take care of one more little piece of business before that can happen. You gotta understand?"

Mark shook his head, "Not exactly."

Frank laughed as he heard the line he'd just spoken repeated. "Milt said you had a smart mouth too. That was pretty funny."

"You want to at least tell me what's going on?"

"I will soon enough. If everything goes according to plan, you'll be out around dinner time. I wouldn't want you to suffer through the same crummy dinner all over again," Harper explained. "Trust me Mark?"

"I don't have a choice do I?"

"You can give me up, but I suspect that you believe whatever Milt told you about me. Listen, I have to go, but I promise I'll be personally be back to get you out of here."

OOOOO

Mark had the same dinner delivered he'd had the night before at about 5:30pm and he picked around the tray a little bit, before leaving it on the metal end table for when the guard came by to pick it up. He hated it last night and the fact that it was being rerun as Christmas dinner was equally if not even more depressing. He plopped himself back onto the bunk and drifted in and out of sleep, when he finally heard a familiar sounding voice coming down the hallway.

"I don't care what Abernathy said, he doesn't know anything, how many times do I have to tell you? You listen to me, get Abernathy on the phone, I don't care that it's Christmas. I want McCormick out of there now."

Mark got up quickly and tried to peer down the hall to confirm who he thought it was.

"Milt, we've tried to get hold of him, but we can't seem to locate him."

That sounded like Mike Delaney, McCormick was sure of it.

"Then put me in the cell with him, because I'm the one that should be held in contempt. And I'm not telling anyone what I know either, until I can get to the bottom of things."

"Milton, I can't hold you without an order from a Judge."

Hardcastle was more than irritated. "I want to see McCormick."

"I can only let an attorney see him," Delaney answered.

"Guess what? I'm his attorney," Milt rolled his eyes.

McCormick chuckled down in his cell. It was Hardcastle all right.

"I was just waiting to hear you say that Milt, of course you can see your client," Mike gave him a smile and led him down the jail.

"Judge? I was wondering when you'd get here," Mark greeted him with a smile.

"Yeah and you wouldn't believe what I've been through to get here," Hardcastle fired back.

"I know, I know, you and that jolly brother of yours both tell the wildest tales. You know him with the red-nosed reindeer and you battling ice across the great state of Oklahoma with your trusted old pick-up. She made it okay though right? Get it, OK in OK?" He laughed.

"You're not funny kiddo, and for your information, the pick-up's heater is on the fritz again. I'm surprised you didn't hear it from here."

"Nope, didn't hear that but actually I think I heard you cursing it several times," Mark responded.

The Judge wasn't amused. "Well, here's the deal, I'm trying to find Abernathy to get you out of here. I sure didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"I know Judge, it's not your fault"

"I am sort of surprised though that you didn't just give up the name to them."

"It's nice to know at this time of year I can still surprise you Hardcase, since that's what Christmas is all about," Mark grinned and then got serious. "I told you I believed what you said. And just so you know, I didn't open your gift yet either."

"I offered to trade spots with you but Delaney's not going for it. You gonna be alright while I get to the bottom of all of this?"

McCormick nodded his acceptance.

"Okay then, hang tight, I'll get this squared away just as soon as I can."

Lo and behold as Hardcastle turned down to exit the jail, down walked Frank Harper pushing the DA and Judge Abernathy, both in handcuffs. Behind them was Harlan Stevens, also in handcuffs.

He pushed the three of them into a larger holding cell and told Delaney to unlock Mark's cell.

"You wanna tell me what's going on Frank?" Milt asked, stunned by this round-up.

"A bad DA, a really bad Judge and just your basic bad guy," Frank said with a smile. "Thankfully no bad cops though. Your kid there has some serious chutzpah. I appreciate that he didn't give me up Milt."

Milt let out a laugh. "This time of year the world is full of surprises Frank."

"Mark, I know I'm a little late, 'cause I promised you'd be out by dinner time, but sometimes criminals, well they don't follow the same clock the rest of us do. You still have a little bit of holiday left," Frank offered.

Delaney opened the door to the cell and Mark picked up his new sport coat and tie, eager to get out. "Right now, this time is the best time. Thanks."

"Say, we're going to go cook something up for dinner, it might be a little late, but if you two want to stop over with your wives, there'll be plenty," Milt said.

Mike and Frank looked at each other and nodded. "We just have to write up a couple of reports, but yeah, we'll stop and get our wives and drop by. If you're sure you won't mind?" Mike said.

"That's why we invited you, right kiddo? Let's get home and get cooking."

OOOOO

Out in the pick-up Mark began to speak up, "Great holiday huh? You drive halfway across the county in the middle of an ice storm and I spend two days in a jail cell and now we get to go home and cook dinner for a house-full of guests."

"Would you relax, it's Christmas. It's all about being with family and friends and everything worked out too. The bad guys are locked up, which means we'll have a nice long vacation before I go to my next file. You should be happy about that kiddo."

"I wanted to be happy up at Barbara's."

"So you drive up there tomorrow, it's no big deal."

They drove the rest of the way in silence, that was until Mark went to put the heater on inside the truck and the horrible sound started emanating in the cab. He shut it off quickly. "I promise, I'll fix it before I leave tomorrow."

"Ah, don't worry about it now." Hardcastle pulled up the familiar drive and saw a car parked out front that he didn't recognize. "I wonder who that belongs too?"

"Maybe your brother, the jolly old fellow himself, left it for you, and if he did, then I for sure don't have fix the heater in this thing."

"Let's go see if someone's inside."

The moment the door opened, the two of them were bombarded by every wonderful food aroma that was known to man. Barbara Johnson came into the foyer as she had heard the truck pull up. "Lieutenant Delaney called about a half hour ago, so we started cooking and baking."

"We?" the Judge asked, as Mark went to give her a hug.

Just then, May and Zora came out from the kitchen. "We were able to get on a flight from Little Rock, just before the ice hit. We might be staying for a few days though Milton that is until Clarence thaws out."

"Aunt May, Aunt Zora, how nice that you did this. But you three didn't have to do all the cooking. That's what McCormick and I were going to do."

"Nonsense, after what the two of you have been through, it's the least we can do," Barbara said.

"This is a great Christmas after all," Mark smiled.

"We're having turkey and ham, sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie and all the fixings, everything should be ready by the time your friends get here," Aunt May said.

Milt finally remembered his manners and introduced his aunts to Barbara and Mark and they all headed into the den to share the Christmas spirit.

OOOOO

It was coming up on midnight and all the guests had left Gulls Way except for May, Zora and Barbara, but the three of them had gone off to bed after having prepared a feast for everyone. Mark and Milt sat in the quiet den as the fire crackled in the nearby fireplace.

"I guess it's time we opened up the gifts kiddo," Milt said.

"You mean you didn't open yours yet either? Why Judge, I'm touched."

"Touched in the head that's for sure. Let me go grab it. I hope the ice didn't ruin whatever it is."

"No chance of that," Mark said, as he reached over and picked up the wrapped box the Judge had left for him. Hardcastle's departure gave him a few minutes more to shake it to see if he could figure out what it was.

Milt came back in the room carrying the box from Mark. "Enough with the shaking McCormick, just open it will ya?"

"No, you go ahead first Judge," McCormick insisted.

"You know what I don't get McCormick? Why didn't you just tell Delaney the name? He had some inclination about what was going on. He could have gotten in touch with Frank and got to the bottom of things."

McCormick snagged a cookie from the plate and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth. "Yeah, I could have done that, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember what you said his name was."

Hardcastle let out a laugh. "That's right, you never met Harper before," he paused and added, "I'm sorry it ruined your Christmas kid."

"You didn't ruin it, it just got set back a few hours. This is great. I love that your aunts flew out here and that Barb drove down. The food was fantastic and Frank and Mike are great cops and even better friends. It's a real gift to have friends and family like this Judge. We're both very lucky."

The silence between them was deafening, until Milt finally spoke up, "Do you hear that kiddo?"

Mark sort of glanced around, trying to hard to listen for a sound, but didn't hear anything, so he shrugged.

"Peace on earth, that's what it is, it sound pretty good, doesn't it?" the Judge said, the corners of his lips turning into a smile, "Merry Christmas McCormick."

Mark grinned back, "Merry Christmas Judge."

"Now quit shaking that box and open it already!"


End file.
